


Innocence, My Brother

by Thanatopsiturvy



Series: In Search of Nine Lives [6]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aftercare, Azarahd the Khajiit, BDSM, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Impact Play, M/M, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Safeword Use, Shibari, Sub Drop, The Sanctum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/pseuds/Thanatopsiturvy
Summary: “What is life’s greatest illusion?”He jerked his hand back. A voice, no, a whisper, seemed to fill his mind. It wasn’t spoken, not with a mouth. It resonated inside of him, a shiver running down his spine, to the very tip of his tail.“Eh…” He looked down at the paper again. “Innocence, my brother,” he read, eyes darting between the page and the door nervously.“Welcome home.”-In which Azarahd finds himself learning that true strength lies in submission.





	Innocence, My Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/gifts).



> HELLO AND WELCOME 
> 
> This fic was inspired by/is a gift to [raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy) because she has made us all thirst monsters for Nazir. There is mention of "The Sanctum", which is a direct reference to her series [The Edged Lexicon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758052). 
> 
> I'd also like to thank raunchyandpaunchy as well as [spiney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiney/pseuds/spiney) for tag-team beta reading this fic for me! Y'all are the dream team and I love you both dearly. 
> 
> It may go without saying but: **CW: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, DOM/SUB RELATIONSHIP, ETC.** (it's all in the tags). 
> 
> Enjoy!

Azarahd looked down at the paper in his hands, squinting in an attempt to decipher Delvin’s chicken scratch handwriting. He looked back up at the door in front of him, eyes narrowing. There was an odd aura about it - something insidious, nebulous, almost pulsing with dark magic. He stepped up to the door, clearing his throat, reaching a hand out to grab onto the heavy metal ring that served as the door’s handle.

 

_ “What is life’s greatest illusion?”  _

 

He jerked his hand back. A voice, no, a  _ whisper _ , seemed to fill his mind. It wasn’t spoken, not with a mouth. It resonated inside of him, a shiver running down his spine, to the very tip of his tail. 

“Eh…” He looked down at the paper again. “Innocence, my brother,” he read, eyes darting between the page and the door nervously. 

 

_ “Welcome home.” _

 

Azarahd stumbled backwards as the door swung open, revealing a dark, dank passageway leading downwards, deep into the hillside. He cleared his throat again, straightening up. He’d walked astride death before. He’d traversed the halls of Volkihar’s castle, waded through its darkest dungeons; he’d felt the power of a vampire lord, tasted blood, killed the innocent. This place should not scare him. 

 

But it did. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the doorway, not allowing himself to flinch as it closed behind him with a resounding, metallic  _ thud.  _ The stairs were a little slick, and he steadied himself on the wall as he made his way down, down… even further down. The soft murmur of voices drifted up through the corridors as he neared a larger chamber. He shuddered violently as he turned a corner, seeing what appeared to be a mummified corpse standing upright in an open coffin.  _ Nocturnal guide me, _ he prayed, tightening his jaw as he descended the final set of steps into what appeared to be a mess hall. 

 

A robed figure sat at the long table, a long, curved sword hanging at his side. Azarahd inhaled deeply, steeling himself. 

“Pardon,” he began. “I was sent by Delvin Mallory.” There was no response. Ahz tugged at one of his ears nervously and continued. “To deliver goods and decorations to aid in restoring the sanctuary.” The figure at the table turned to face him slowly. He was Redguard, his features broad and smooth. He regarded Azarahd with an air of disinterest.

“Delvin must trust you quite a bit to send you on this particular errand.” His voice was rich and deep, and the smile that tugged at the corner of his full lips was nothing short of dangerous. Azarahd was immediately intrigued. He shifted his weight onto one foot, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s his mistake, really,” he joked. The Redguard let out a deep chuckle that made the fur on the back of Ahz’s neck stand on end. There was a masked figure rhythmically stirring something inside a half-rusted cooking pot against the far wall, the scrape of metal on metal crawling under Azarahd’s skin, making him feel itchy. A cold wind blew through the place from a large, gaping tunnel. Maybe it was his overactive imagination, but Ahz swore it sounded like screaming. 

 

“As you can see, we’re getting back on our feet,” the Redguard began to explain, rising from the table. “I’m not sure how much Delvin told you, but we’re… under new management.” His mouth seemed to tug downwards slightly, eyes growing slightly distant. “Come, I’ll show you around the place and then we can talk business.”

“What is your name, friend?” Azarahd asked tentatively. The man stopped, turning to look Ahz up and down with an unreadable expression. 

“My name is Nazir. And we are not friends.”

Azarahd bowed his head quickly, face burning hot. “My apologies. It’s a turn of phrase that does not translate well from Ta’agra.” His tail twitched nervously. “My name is Azarahd.” 

“Well, Azarahd,” Nazir almost purred his name. “How about we just get this over with and we won’t have to suffer through any more forced pleasantries?”

 

Azarahd actually quite liked this man. 

 

The Dawnstar sanctuary was sprawling, almost labyrinthian in nature. Nazir walked him through crumbling rooms and deserted halls, explaining quickly and efficiently their plans for each space they encountered. It wasn’t until they reached a particularly long chamber that things took a turn for the more interesting. 

“This will, unfortunately, be the lower priority room when it comes to our restoration. But, once completed, it’ll be well worth the wait,” Nazir explained, resting his hands on his hips and looking across the room with eyes that saw what Azarahd could not. Ahz did, however, see quite a bit of dried blood on the floor. 

“And what might its purpose be?” He could tell by Nazir’s smile that he’d hoped he would ask. His teeth were startlingly white. Threatening.  _ Alluring _ . 

“Recreation,” he answered ominously. Azarahd didn’t ask for any elaboration. 

 

The somewhat inauspicious tour ended back in the mess hall. Nazir sat back down at his original place, so Ahz circled the table and sat across from him, pulling out Delvin’s notes once more.

“Your plans for the sanctuary are fairly ambitious. I take it your new management has the coin to accommodate?”

Nazir let out another deep chuckle. “Despite our recent tragedy, we’ve found ourselves with quite a bit of coin to aid in the licking of our wounds.”

“Ah, yes,” Ahz smiled, lips curling, “I heard about the Emperor.”             

“Did you now?” Nazir returned his smile. “And what exactly did you hear?” 

Azarahd shrugged, setting Delvin’s notes down. “That he was found dead aboard his own ship inside his own locked quarters.” Ahz quirked an eyebrow. “Quite impressive.” 

“I’ll pass on your compliments.” Nazir was looking at him with those dark, calculating eyes, as if Ahz were a thing to be studied or a puzzle to be solved. Azarahd cleared his throat, picking up the paper in front of him again. 

“So, where would you like to begin?”

 

-

 

Azarahd made many trips between Riften and Dawnstar in the following months. Slowly but surely, the Sanctuary started to feel less abandoned, less hollow. He and Nazir established a somewhat tense but amicable relationship along the way. There was nothing overtly friendly about the Redguard, and in all honesty that was one of Azarahd’s favorite aspects of him. He was blunt, yet eloquent; dispassionate, yet articulate. Not to mention his truly terrible puns which always managed to get a laugh. Azarahd never had to second-guess anything Nazir said - every word was intentional, precise. Calculated. The Khajiit found an odd stirring in his gut, beyond his usual base desires. He wanted the man sexually, of course he did - but even more than that, Azarahd wanted his  _ attention _ . He reveled in the moments when Nazir would turn to him, those dark, enigmatic eyes focused solely on Azarahd, giving him, and him alone, the attention he craved. 

 

He found himself sitting across the table from Nazir, a mirror of their first encounter, now almost two months since he had initially visited the sanctuary. They both sported rather full goblets of dark red wine: Firebrand. Azarahd took an indulgent pull from his cup, eyes darting to look at Nazir over the brim. The Redguard was ignoring him, to his chagrin, attention turned to a rather long list of names on a dirty scroll. He was in the midst of scratching one out with his quill when Azarahd set his cup down a little harder than he’d intended. 

 

“I suppose you’ll finally be able to work on that ‘recreational’ room now that the majority of the updates have been completed, yes?” He wasn’t sure why he’d brought it up. Maybe it was just to garner a reaction out of the stoic Redguard.

It worked. Nazir’s jet-black eyes looked up, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What makes you think I haven’t already started?” He set the quill down, crossing his arms and leaning across the table. 

Azarahd had his full attention, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He took another long pull from his wine, maintaining eye contact. He licked his lips as he pulled away, swirling the goblet in his hand. “Well, are you going to show me?” 

 

The way Nazir smiled sent a nervous flutter through Ahz’s body. Silently, the Redguard got to his feet, turning to exit the mess hall. Azarahd nimbly leapt to his feet as well, grabbing both their goblets of wine as an afterthought before quickly following Nazir down the corridor to the far right. Ahz couldn’t help but smile to himself, taking another indulgent but careful, sip from his own cup. They reached the end of the hall, and Nazir placed one of his large hands against the thick wooden door to push it open. He smiled almost too kindly at Azarahd, stepping to the side and bidding him entrance with a sweeping gesture. Ahz strode into the room confidently, but felt his breath catch in his throat as he finally saw what Nazir had meant by ‘recreation’. 

 

It looked like a torture chamber, but no, it was too…  _ clean _ . Too meticulous. There were iron crosses with metal shackles for wrists and ankles, whips and paddles that were displayed with care, if not reverence. There were smooth wooden benches with leather cuffs, fastidiously crafted and measured, as well as a large metal bathing tub in the far corner. Azarahd felt his heart leap into his throat at the possibilities this room promised - everything it  _ threatened _ . 

“Do you want to play?” Nazir taunted, and Azarahd could tell he already damn well knew the answer to that question. He plucked the wine cup from Ahz’s other hand, taking a long sip, dark lashes fanned out against his sharp cheekbones. He smacked his lips as he finished, locking eyes with Ahz in challenge.

 

“What are the rules?” Ahz asked, rather proud of himself for thinking on his feet. 

Nazir huffed appreciatively. “Smart man,” he said, before handing his goblet back. Azarahd took it without a second thought. Nazir closed the door behind them and stepped forward, lacing his hands behind his back. 

“I’m part of a… sacred organization,” Nazir began, walking towards the far wall. “We push the limits of our bodies and our minds, seeking pleasure without eschewing its natural antithesis: pain.” He stepped up onto the small platform that bordered the room. “One cannot exist without the other. Just as you cannot have push without pull, give without take, dominance…” He reached for one of the flat wooden paddles that hung from a hook on the wall. “...Without submission.” He ran the flat side of the paddle against the palm of his hand before turning to face Azarahd. 

 

“You don’t strike me as a man that would submit easily,” Nazir observed, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the wooden paddle, one at a time. 

Azarahd lifted his chin with a smirk, bringing his goblet to his lips and tipping it back, draining the contents. “I suppose that depends on the situation in which I find myself,” he quipped. The wine was beginning to take effect, his head lighter and his tongue looser. He walked forward with more confidence than he felt, stepping up to join Nazir on the raised altar. He offered the other half-full goblet to the man, heartbeat quickening at the boldness of his action. Nazir smiled, exhaling sharply through his nose in what might be considered a laugh. He hung the paddle back up on the wall behind him, turning around once again to face Ahz and to take the goblet from his extended hand. He pulled the liquid into his mouth, maintaining eye contact, before stepping forward and placing a firm hand on the back of Azarahd’s neck, bringing their mouths together. 

 

Ahz couldn’t help the muted groan that rolled up the back of his throat as he felt the wine seep from Nazir’s mouth into his own. It trickled down the sides of his jaw, dampening the tufts of fur on his chest that escaped through the top of his armor. He swallowed gratefully, which earned him a deep, rumbling hum from the Redguard. He kissed Nazir deeply, with violence - all tongue and teeth and aggression, dropping his cup to grasp at his sides, his shoulders, seeking entrance beneath those infuriating swaths of layered red fabric. The metal chalice clanged loudly against the stone floor, rolling down the short set of steps and towards the center of the room. Nazir pulled back, stepping away, just as Azarahd thought he’d found an opening in his robes.

 

“You asked about the rules,” he said, running a rough hand across Azarahd’s head, grabbing the scruff of his neck. 

“Yes,” Ahz breathed, entranced, letting his head tip backwards, exposing his throat.

Nazir’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m going to give you some options, and you’re going to tell me what you want.” Azarahd’s pulse quickened, his eyes dilating and his breath becoming more erratic.

“Alright.” He nodded against Nazir’s vice-like grip as best he could. 

 

The Redguard released his hold on him, turning towards a black metal trunk that sat against the wall in one of the small, stony alcoves. He finished the last of his wine before abandoning his cup and opening the chest with the edge of his boot, the metal lid clanking loudly as it hit the wall. 

“Would you like to be restrained?” Nazir asked without looking at him, bending down to inspect the contents of the trunk. Azarahd could already feel his cock stiffening. 

“Yes,” he all but whispered.

“How about you speak more clearly when you’re answering me.” Nazir pulled a long length of rope out of the trunk and set it on the ground. “And going forward, you will address me as ‘sir’ or any other formal designation. You may use Ta’agra if you wish. Now,” he turned over his shoulder to look at Azarahd, dark eyes glistening. 

 

“Would you like to be restrained?” 

 

“Yes,  _ vadaj _ ,” Azarahd responded clearly. 

 

“Much better,” Nazir praised, and Azarahd felt his breath flutter. He watched the Redguard turn his attention back to the trunk, pulling out a roll of cloth with straps binding it. He hummed thoughtfully, pulling at the braid in his beard and rolling a finger across the lone bead.

“I will confess that we don’t see many Khajiit in the Sanctum,” he said, almost to himself. “I feel as though knives might not be as effective, considering your fur.” 

Azarahd felt a spike of fear. “No knives, please,  _ vadaj _ ,” he said quietly, hoping it wouldn’t offend. 

“Understood.” Nazir put the roll of cloth back in the trunk. “You are always allowed to say ‘no’ when we’re deciding upon our terms.”

“Thank you,  _ vadaj _ .” Azarahd bowed slightly, enjoying using the formal term almost a little too much. 

 

Nazir continued. “Would you like impact?” He gestured to the various whips and paddles that hung along the wall. Azarahd bit his bottom lip, exhaling slowly. 

“Yes,  _ vadaj _ ,” he responded. Nazir closed the trunk, getting to his feet. 

He turned to face Ahz fully. “Would you like to take my cock?” 

Azarahd groaned, eyes fluttering as his arousal spiked. He saw a smirk tug at the corner of Nazir’s lip.

“Please,  _ vadaj _ ,” he all but groaned, desperately wanting to remove his armor. 

“How would you like to take it?” Nazir pressed calmly. 

Azarahd felt dizzy at the very idea of Nazir using him for his own pleasure. “Any way you’d like to give,  _ vadaj _ .”

“Wonderful.” Nazir’s smile was deadly. “I think I have a good plan in mind, then. Why don’t you start taking that armor off? Must be getting uncomfortable.” 

 

Azarahd’s hands were shaking as he undid the leather fastenings of his ebony armor, thankful for lovely craftsmanship as always. He placed his armor reverently on a provided rack, piece by piece, until he was left in just his gambeson and coarse linen pants. He wanted to strip further, but Nazir had not given him permission to do so. The Redguard raked his eyes across Azarahd’s body. 

“You may continue,” he said with a flick of his wrist. He continued to speak as Azarahd undressed further. “You’re familiar with the concept of a safeword?” 

“I am,  _ vadaj _ , though I have not heard it referred to as such.” He unfastened his gambeson quickly, pulling it off his shoulders and folding it over his arm several times before setting it at the foot of the armor rack. 

“Good. In the Sanctum we have two safewords. Iron, if you need things to slow down or ease up, and Ebony, if you need everything to stop.” He turned to look at Azarahd, expression serious. “Do not be afraid to use these words. There is no punishment for invoking them. We are here to push our limits, not to break them.”

 

Azarahd slowly eased himself out of his pants, his erection springing free into the chilled air. He folded his pants before walking to the center of the room, completely naked and more thrilled than he’d been in a long while. Nazir made a noise of approval.

“Good to see you’re feeling enthusiastic already,” he commented, eyeing Azarahd’s swollen dick with a dispassionate sort of interest. A clever remark curled on the tip of Ahz’s tongue, one that would have immediately left his lips in any other circumstance. Instead he bowed his head, averting his gaze. 

Nazir chuckled deeply. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you rather  _ like _ relinquishing control. Am I right?” 

“Yes,  _ vadaj _ ,” Ahz agreed softly with a small moan. 

“Good. We’re going to begin now.” Nazir unhooked the leather belt that held his robes in place, swiftly removing them as well as the scarf and head wrappings that shrouded his face. He threw them on top of the metal trunk, bare from the waist up, and turned to face Ahz. 

 

“I’d like you to crawl over to me. Hands and knees.” 

 

Azarahd felt the first pang of rebellion prickle through his guts. Somewhat warily, he lowered himself to his hands and knees, ears flattening and tail slightly tucked as he crawled like an animal over to the Redguard. He waited for the disparaging comments about his race to start, but Nazir remained silent, simply watching. He made his way up the shallow, wide stone steps and stopped at Nazir’s feet, staring at the man’s boots intently. 

“Very good,” Nazir praised, reaching a hand down to run across Azarahd’s head, carding his thick fingers through his fur, while the other worked the buttons of his leather pants. Azarahd looked up to see Nazir pull his length from the opening, sizable and thick, even while soft.

“You have some work to do,” he said, giving his cock a shake. “Use your mouth and your mouth alone.” 

 

Azarahd clasped his hands behind his back to avoid temptation, leaning forward and taking the Reguard’s soft, velvety cock into his mouth, closing his eyes and humming as he felt it immediately thicken against his tongue. Nazir kept one hand on the back of Azarahd’s head while he bobbed enthusiastically on the man’s quickly hardening length, teetering slightly without the use of his hands to balance. He squeezed his eyes closed, sucking as hard as he could, desperately wanting to please. He felt Nazir’s grip on his fur tighten, roughly pulling him off his cock and forcing him to look up.

 

“I can tell you’ve done this quite a bit. You’d make a good whore, if you haven’t been one already,” Nazir commented. Azarahd felt a whimper rise in the back of his throat, but he stifled it. 

“Thank you,  _ vadaj _ ,” he croaked. Nazir smiled, releasing his head and reaching for the long length of rope that lay on the ground next to his feet. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and Ahz obeyed, flipping to face the center of the room, sitting on the top step of the altar. He closed his eyes, feeling Nazir’s body heat behind him as the man also lowered himself down. He grabbed both of Azarahd’s wrists, pulling them behind his back, forcing Ahz to lean forward. He felt the coarse rope being woven around his wrists, practiced and meticulous. Nazir reached out, pulling him back to sit up straight as he looped the rope around the front of Ahz’s body multiple times, pinning his arms to his sides, before weaving an elaborate knot at his bent elbows. The way Nazir pushed and pulled him, bringing him against his warm body before immediately shoving him forward again, was an intimate kind of torture. He fell into the rocking rhythm of it, letting his head fall forward and eyes slide closed as he felt the slide of the rope against his fur, tugging at it uncomfortably in places. He groaned needily as Nazir looped the rope around his chest, leaning back against the Redguard for a brief, blissful moment of contact, encircled by Nazir’s arms, before being roughly pushed forward again. 

 

Nazir finished tying the rope off, its unused length coiling on the floor around them like sleeping snakes. 

“I think that’ll do for now.” He tugged on the ropes experimentally, pulling Azarahd back against him. “How does it feel?” Ahz groaned, letting his head loll backwards against Nazir’s shoulder, arching his back wantonly.

“It feels good,  _ vadaj _ ,” he all but whined. Nazir laughed deeply in his ear, pushing Ahz roughly away from him again before getting to his feet. He grabbed the end of the rope close to the central knot and pulled Azarahd up straight as he stepped down to stand in front of him, straddling the Khajiit’s long, outstretched legs.

“Let’s get back to using that talented mouth of yours,” he rumbled, releasing the rope and grabbing both side’s of Ahz’s face. “Since you can’t use our safewords with your mouth full, I want you to moan,  _ loudly _ , three times if you need me to stop.” He hooked his thumbs into the inside of Azarahd’s cheeks and between his back teeth, forcing the Khajiit’s mouth open before ruthlessly shoving his cock inside. Ahz tried not to choke, eyes watering as he felt the thick cockhead hit the back of his throat. He gagged around Nazir’s length, but the Redguard didn’t stop, pistoning his hips forward. Ahz squirmed against his ropes, squeezing his eyes shut and flexing his bound hands. He struggled for air in between thrusts, never quite able to get enough. Obscene squelching noises echoed off the chamber walls, punctuated by Ahz’s grunts and huffs as he tried desperately to catch his breath, Nazir’s cock driving into his mouth over and over, relentless. 

 

Finally, the Redguard pulled back and Azarahd gasped like a drowning man breaching the surface. He panted raggedly, leaning forward as oxygen rushed back into his system. 

“Very good.” Nazir purred the praise, petting Azarahd’s head before roughly fisting his fur and pulling him up straight once more, shoving his cock back into his mouth. Azarahd squirmed and shuddered, still deprived of air. He knew he could make it stop. But he didn’t want to. His own cock throbbed between his thighs, straining, desperate for contact. 

 

Nazir placed both hands on the back of Azarahd’s head, holding him in place, forcing his cock down the Khajiit’s throat as far as it would go. Azarahd gagged and fought, desperate for air, eyes burning, bile threatening to rise in the back of his throat - and then he was released, gasping, shivering, coughing. Nazir cupped the side’s of Ahz’s face, rubbing some of his tears deeper into the fur on his cheeks.

“I think I’m done with this hole,” he remarked, sliding two of his thick fingers back into Ahz’s mouth to run against his tongue. “Let’s see what the other one has to offer.” Azarahd groaned around Nazir’s fingers, cock twitching involuntarily. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the lack of oxygen, or the unbridled lust, but he felt drunk. 

 

Nazir hauled Ahz to his feet by his ropes as if he weighed nothing, pulling him roughly over to the side of the room to stand in a specific spot. Azarahd watched with glassy eyes as Nazir stepped up onto a small pedestal and unhooked a metal ring on a chain from where it hung on the wall. The ring swung freely towards Azarahd, swaying back and forth in front of him like a pendulum, hypnotizing him even further. Nazir caught the ring, stilling it, and grabbed Ahz by his ropes again, positioning him where he wanted.

“I considered suspending you completely, but I actually quite like watching you squirm,” Nazir commented, taking the extra length of rope that hung from Azarahd’s back and looping it up through the metal ring. “Give me your leg.” 

 

Blinking dumbly, Azarahd lifted his leg out in front of him, hopping unsteadily on one foot. Nazir grabbed him by the ankle and pulled it backwards and up, bending Azarahd’s knee and pressing his heel against his ass, throwing him off balance. Ahz let out a startled sound, nearly falling forward, the tension of the ropes holding him up. Nazir didn’t seem to care, pulling Ahz’s knee out to the side, spreading his thighs farther apart. He propped Ahz's knee against his own hip and began to bind the bent leg with the rope, calf pinned to thigh, once again working quickly and meticulously, threading and braiding the rope with perfect symmetry. Ahz’s standing leg was shaking with effort as Nazir tied the last knot, stepping back to observe his work. Azarahd had never felt so exposed. He let his head hang limply forward, face burning hot as he felt unbelievably aroused. The bind was tight, uncomfortable, but tolerable. He flexed against the ropes momentarily. 

“We’ll have to do something about this,” Nazir commented, grabbing Azarahd’s tail roughly by the base, causing the Khajiit to cry out. “It’ll just get in the way.” 

 

Nazir used the last bit of the rope, winding it around the base of Ahz’s tail, pulling it up and securing it to his bound wrists. 

“Perfect,” Nazir almost growled, running a thumb across Azarahd’s exposed hole, pulling a stuttering, gasping moan out of Ahz’s throat. 

“Desperate little whore, aren’t you?” Nazir laughed. 

“Yes,  _ vadaj _ ,” Ahz replied automatically, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to speak. He couldn’t see Nazir anymore, but heard the click of his boots against the hard stone floor as he walked away from him, leaving him half-suspended and utterly helpless. He tested the ropes a bit, taking weight off his stabilizing foot tentatively, sinking into the suspension. They held fast, but pulled uncomfortably at his fur and bit nastily into the softer parts of his muscles. He quickly put weight back on his leg, still shaking slightly from the exertion. He heard the sound of leather over leather, a soft, deceptively gentle sound. 

 

“You’re going to count for me. To ten,” came Nazir’s voice from behind him. “We’ll start off light and work our way up. See how much you can take.” Azarahd wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about until he felt the sting of leather straps against his ass. He yelped loudly, jerking away from the sensation, falling heavily into the ropes as he stumbled.

“Count,” Nazir demanded. 

“...O-one…” Ahz panted, regaining his balance with no small amount of effort. The second lash came, and while he was more prepared, the sting was no less sharp. 

“Two,” he whined. 

 

Nazir increased the force with each lash. Azarahd felt tears streaming down his face, mind buzzing with pain, voice wrecked as he tried to continue to count. When the seventh lash came, he cried out with a wordless sob. 

“I-iron!” He shuddered, feeling like a failure. Immediately, he heard the approach of Nazir’s footsteps, the man quickly circling into his field of vision. Azarahd couldn’t look up, hanging his head in shame and staring at the Redguard’s black leather boots. He felt Nazir’s large, warm hand caress his head, sliding across his ear and around his tear-stained cheeks. The Redguard bent down in front of him. 

“You’re doing very well for your first time,” he said gently. Azarahd laughed, though it sounded more like a hiccup. 

“This is… slightly more intense than I was anticipating,” he confessed, sniffing loudly through a half-smile. 

Nazir nodded, his expression free of judgement. “Do you want to keep going?” 

“Yes,” Ahz said without pause. “I want you to fuck me…  _ vadaj _ .” 

Nazir’s predatory smile returned. “I think perhaps you’ve earned a reward.” Azarahd had gone soft during the flogging, but he felt blood pooling in his groin once again. The pain across his ass and upper thighs had turned into a dull ache, throbbing gently with his pulse. 

 

Nazir unbuttoned his pants once again, pulling his cock out and wordlessly presenting it to Azarahd. The Khajiit took it into his mouth happily, back in familiar territory, free to set the pace this time. He worked Nazir back up to full hardness, his thick cock like velvet-covered steel in his mouth. He purred appreciatively, his own length growing harder in return. Nazir stepped back without warning, pulling his dick out of Ahz’s mouth with a wet pop. He silently circled around behind him and Ahz heard the sound of a small bottle being uncorked. Ahz hissed and groaned as Nazir slid a slick finger into him.

“You’re surprisingly tight for a whore,” Nazir commented, fingering him somewhat roughly and adding a second almost too soon. Ahz panted loudly, letting his eyes slide closed, rocking back against Nazir’s fingers in rhythm. 

“Eager, too,” he chuckled, pushing in up to his knuckles. Azarahd felt a whine claw its way out of his throat as Nazir curled his fingers inside him, pleasure pulsing through his stomach and coiling behind his eyes. He leaned heavily into the ropes, ignoring their pinch. 

 

At last, Nazir removed his fingers, and Ahz felt the blunt head of his cock pressing into him - slowly, torturously slow. 

“ _ Please, vadaj… _ ” Ahz whimpered, exhaling sharply as he felt the tip push through the tight ring of muscle. Nazir said nothing in response, though Azarahd could hear him breathing heavily. As Nazir finally sunk fully into him, he heard the Redguard groan appreciatively. 

“ _ Very _ tight for a whore…” he said again, remaining still for a long moment, squeezing Azarahd's abused ass tightly. Ahz felt those large hands slide around the sides of his hips, up his arms, fingers curling around the ropes that bound them together, before Nazir pulled out halfway, using the ropes as leverage to slam forward back into Azarahd, punching a shout from the Khajiit’s lungs. 

 

The dam was broken, the floodgates opened - Nazir let out a long, low noise that sounded more like the growl of a wolf approaching its prey than something a human would make. He started to pound into Azarahd, knocking him off his foot, pushing him completely into the mercy of the ropes. Ahz may have screamed, he couldn’t tell, as he fell forward into pure sensation, the lines between pleasure and pain blurring so exquisitely that he found himself unable to form thoughts. Nazir fucked him to rhythm of his own heartbeat.  

“ _ Ro’alij zatay ahzissj! _ ” he cried desperately, forgetting Common completely in that moment. He felt Nazir slow, almost as if asking a question. “More…” Azarahd panted as his answer. 

 

Azarahd vaguely felt as though he had left his body, odd hallucinatory images flashing through his mind - roses blooming behind his eyes, snakes curling through tall grass, Skyrim’s aurora borealis pulsing through his veins. He knew he was making noises, he may even have been saying words. Nazir’s hand brought him back into reality as he felt thick fingers curl around his dick, making him yelp. 

“I want you to come for me,” the Redguard growled, closer to Ahz’s ear than he was expecting. Nazir let the force of his thrusts push Ahz’s hips forward, fucking the man’s fist as he fucked into him. Ahz was thrashing against his binds, still suspended in mid air, overwhelmed and overstimulated. He inhaled deeply, long and gasping and ragged, electricity dancing along his spine, feeling his orgasm spiraling tightly inside of him, dangerously close to breaking him. He felt pressure behind his eyes and suddenly realized he was holding his breath. And then the tension snapped.

 

He screamed, hard, feeling every fiber of his being shudder and convulse, being torn apart and fused back together again, the lines between death and sex blurring into something terrifying and spiritual and utterly incomprehensible. It felt as though every muscle in his body had contracted at once, and their release was sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced as he completely collapsed, surrendering entirely. He was vaguely aware of Nazir reaching his own climax, of hearing a loud, berserker-like bellow somewhere near his left ear and feeling warmth trickle out of him as he hung limply in the ropes.

 

Nazir slowed to a halt, breathing heavily, still grasping the ropes tightly. He pulled out slowly, and Azarahd felt the gush of his seed, which for some reason caused him to laugh. 

“Here,” Nazir said, deep and breathless, holding Ahz up and allowing him to get his foot back underneath him. “I’m going to start untying you.” Azarahd let his head hang forward, loose and limp, breathing evenly and deeply as the ropes slowly began to uncoil around him, first his tail, then his leg. He groaned as he straightened his leg out, muscles creaking and protesting as he gently lowered his foot to the ground, putting tentative weight on it. Nazir helped him stand up straight, pulling Ahz to lean against him as he began to untie the knots binding his arms. He let his head fall against Nazir’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck deliriously. He heard the man chuckle. 

“How are you holding up?” he asked as Ahz felt the ropes loosen around his shoulders.

“I think… I just remembered where I was,” he joked, but there was some truth behind it. Nazir laughed a little more openly at that, and it was the most beautiful sound Azarahd had heard in his entire life. He sighed as his wrists were finally unbound, rolling his shoulders with a hiss. He lost his balance, stumbling backwards, and Nazir’s strong arms reached out to grab him, steadying him. 

“Careful now,” Nazir rumbled. “Have to make sure you’re not about to faint on me.” He wrapped an arm around Azarahd’s waist, his other hand smoothing down errant patches of fur where the rope had tousled. It was a soothing motion, and Ahz let out a deep, satisfied purr. 

 

“So,” Nazir began, still tidying his fur in places, almost absent-mindedly, “were you planning on telling me you were the Dragonborn?”

Azarahd’s eyes snapped open, heart leaping into his throat. “What….? How…?” He struggled to form the question. Nazir slid his arm from around Ahz’s waist and pointed at the wall. There were scorch marks dappling the stonework and marring one of the legs of the iron cross. 

“I’m so sorry,” he sputtered, embarrassed. He didn’t even remember Shouting. 

“I consider myself to be skilled in this particular art, but I don’t think I’ve ever made someone cum so hard they’ve breathed fire.” Nazir laughed lowly at his own joke. “Why didn’t you mention it?”  

 

Azarahd backed away from him, rubbing his wrists and arms where the ropes had cut into them. 

“I tend to keep it to myself unless absolutely necessary,” he explained, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t know.” Nazir smirked, beginning to coil the rope. “I probably would have pushed you even harder.” 

Ahz laughed a little louder than he meant to, the sound nervous even to his own ears. “So, are you telling me that you  _ eased _ me into things?”

“Oh, that was nothing,” Nazir said flatly, beginning to put his tools away, and Ahz couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Would you like a bath?” 

Azarahd shook his head, feeling awkward standing there completely naked. “No, I had one recently.” He hesitated for a moment, then moved to walk across the room towards his armor, his backside beginning to ache noticeably. He suddenly felt very out of place, an odd shame creeping up his spine and drilling into the base of his skull. He dressed quickly, feeling dirty and matted, staring at his armor for a moment, debating on whether or not he should put it on. 

 

Nazir hadn’t mentioned anything about him being allowed to stay the night. He didn’t want to ask. He felt guilty for even thinking about asking. 

“You dressed quickly,” Nazir commented behind him. Ahz kept his back turned, bending to lace up his boots. 

“I was cold,” he lied. It was a terrible lie. He was covered in fucking fur. Ahz felt Nazir’s eyes on him. “I should be heading out, then,” he added, aiming for casual. 

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Nazir said, and Ahz could hear the click of his boots as he approached him. 

“I don’t want to impose,” he argued, reaching for his chest plate. 

“Azarahd.” Nazir said his name like it was a command and Ahz shivered, clenching his fists against the sensation. He turned around slowly, ears flattening.

“Yes?” He was pissed and he didn’t know why. The Redguard still stood a safe distance away from him, dark eyes boring into his own.

Nazir beckoned him over. “Come here.” 

“Don’t try to order me around anymore,” Ahz snapped, his anger spiking sharply. “And I certainly don’t need to be coddled.” 

“You should know better,” Nazir interjected sternly, and Ahz felt his ears flatten further, a snarl curling on his lips. 

“What should I know, exactly?” Anger was coursing through his body and he  _ couldn’t stop it _ . He felt it in the pit of his stomach - lumps of coal growing hotter and heavier by the second. 

Nazir sighed. “You’re dropping.”

Azarahd’s tail lashed from side to side, hair raising on the back of his neck. “I am not some naive child that needs to be comforted!” he ground out through clenched teeth. His throat was closing up, his breath coming out in labored wheezes. Nazir’s face remained neutral and Azarahd had the sudden,  _ vicious _ urge to rip his throat out, to feel his blood heavy and coppery gushing through his teeth, sweet against his tongue, tendon and sinew snapping against his fangs. In that moment he longed to be a vampire again, more than he had in months. He wanted to  _ kill _ something. Anything. 

 

Nazir stepped forward and Azarahd stepped back.

“Don’t!” he warned sharply, but Nazir pressed forward, grabbing him firmly by the upper arms. Azarahd let out a hoarse roar, spinning their positions and roughly pinning Nazir up against the wall with his forearm. The man showed no outward signs of shock, but fixed Azrahd with a leveled glare. 

Ahz seethed, lips curling up around his sharp teeth. “I could  _ kill _ you with only two words,” he growled against the Redguard’s face, saliva gathering in the corners of his lips. He felt entirely out of control, as if his emotions belonged to someone else. Azarahd knew that Nazir would be a formidable opponent and a truly terrible enemy. But he couldn’t quiet his rage.

“Azarahd,” Nazir said again with a heavy sigh. “I have no doubt that you could.” Azarahd’s grip loosened slightly, though his fury remained.

“I... don’t…” Ahz’s teeth were still barred. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. 

“Submitting does not make you weak,” Nazir said calmly and clearly, making Ahz feel utterly transparent. “You were the one in control the entire time. You know this.” He reached a hand up to wrap around Azarahd’s wrist, pulling it away from his chest slowly, cautiously. His eyes were dark and imploring. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” 

 

Azarahd was still breathing heavily, eyes locked with Nazir’s, nose crinkled in a half-snarl. With a frustrated cry he pushed away, beginning to pace. 

“I don’t need to be coddled,” he repeated.

“I’m not going to coddle you,” Nazir insisted, crossing his arms and continuing to lean against the wall. “But I do want to know where your mind is.”

Ahz made another frustrated noise, whirling to face him. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea…” he confessed, furious with himself. “You’re just so… I just wanted…” He let out long, low growl. 

“You’re allowed to relinquish control,” Nazir insisited, which only served to make Azarahd angrier. 

“And have you?” he pressed, fuming. 

Nazir gave him a flat look, quirking a brow. “I’m no hypocrite,” he argued. “Of course I have.” 

 

This gave Azarahd pause, at least. His tail still swished furiously, but he was beginning to feel very stupid for lashing out. He furrowed his brow and looked away, fists still clenched tightly at his sides.

“I… don’t know why I feel this way,” he admitted, though it was a struggle to articulate.“Everything was fine. And then...”

“You dropped,” Nazir repeated, as if that made any sense. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ahz spat, temper rising again. Realization flashed across the Redguard’s face, and slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Nazir walked over to him. 

“Forgive me,” he began. “And do not take this as an insult, but I believe I held you to an expectation that I should not have. This was my mistake.” His voice was calm, evenly toned. Azarahd wanted this to be over. 

“So what’s wrong with me?” Ahz asked. He hated the way his voice cracked and the way his chest felt like it was being ripped open. 

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Nazir assured, carefully reaching out to put a hand on Ahz’s shoulder. “Are you in pain?” 

Ahz growled through a sniff, but nodded. “My ass hurts and I feel like a fool,” he confessed, startling himself with a bit of a laugh. Nazir hummed in understanding. 

“Will you come with me to my room?” It was a simple question, but it was also an invitation. Azarahd knew he shouldn’t say no if he wanted to fix this. Without meeting Nazir’s eyes he nodded once, curtly. 

 

Wordlessly, he followed the man out of the  _ recreation _ room and down the long, cold hallway. They made a sharp right into a bedchamber and Nazir closed the door behind them. The room was lined with bookshelves, nearly packed to the brim. Tapestries decorated the walls, vibrant despite their apparent age. Azarahd watched Nazir move across the room, kneeling in front of a chest at the foot of his bed. He pulled out a bottle of what appeared to be a healing potion and held it out for Ahz to take. Ahz plucked it from Nazir’s fingers and knocked it back silently, smacking his lips against the bitter taste on his tongue. The dull ache in his thighs and rear begin to fade as the potion took effect.

 

Nazir turned to the chest again, and Ahz felt the fur on his neck prickle as he the man pulled out a long length of rope. 

“I’d like to show you some things,” he offered. “Teach you, if you’ll allow me.” The Redguard turned to face Ahz; the rope hung limply in his right hand. 

Swallowing thickly, Azarahd exhaled. “What kind of things?” 

“You seemed to enjoy the ties I did with you,” Nazir said, calmly and neutrally. “Would you like to learn how to do them yourself?” 

Ahz shifted awkwardly where he stood. “Are you going to tie me up again?” 

“No,” Nazir answered, holding up the rope. “I’ll show you how to practice, though. Come here.” He moved around to the side of the bed, sitting down. Azarahd slowly approached, keeping quite a bit of distance between them as he sat. Nazir handed him one of what he now realized were two lengths of rope.

Meticulously, the Redguard began to wrap his portion of rope around his own upper thigh. “You want the rope to lay flat against the skin, like so, to make sure there’s very little pinch.” 

 

Azarahd watched for a moment before trying to mimic the tie around his own leg. He wasn’t stupid - he knew what Nazir was doing. And it was working. He already felt calmer. 

“Like this?” he asked, threading the rope through itself and pulling the knot tight. 

“Almost,” Nazir encouraged, reaching over. “May I?” he asked, looking up at Ahz expectantly. Again, Azarahd knew perfectly well what the man was doing. He was giving him control back. It was obvious. And, oddly enough, the gesture was greatly appreciated. It was even endearing. Azarahd nodded once, and Nazir firmly, but gently corrected his tie. 

 

They continued on for a while, Azarahd practicing different ties on his upper leg as Nazir directed him accordingly. Nearly an hour passed, easily. Azarahd finally let out a great heaving sigh, straightening up as he finished his last practice tie. 

“I apologize,” he said lowly, eyes settling somewhere on the far wall. 

“Apology accepted,” Nazir responded, unbinding the rope from his own leg. 

“I never had any intention of harming you,” Ahz continued, staring at Nazir’s hands as they worked. 

“And neither did I. I pushed too hard.” 

“I wanted to be able to take it.”

“Knowing your limits is part of the game.” 

Ahz growled in the back of his throat. “I’ve had far worse,” he insisted, feeling mildly petulant. He saw Nazir nod in his periphery. He finally looked over at the man, really taking him in. 

 

He was still bare from the waist up, his chest, shoulders, and arms mottled with scars. They weren’t like any Azarahd had seen before - some were jagged, massive, forming shiny mounds of taut flesh. Others were smaller, more precise - weaving lines that formed intricate patterns: knots and circles and spirals. Intentional. Azarahd tentatively reached a hand out to brush the pads of his fingers against a spiralling scar on Nazir’s shoulder, like the carvings on a Nordic tomb. 

“This is an odd battle wound,” he commented under his breath. 

Nazir huffed. “It is indeed,” he agreed without further explanation.

Azarahd’s eyes flitted down, lingering on the small, golden rings that hung from Nazir’s nipples. 

 

“Are you going to stay with me tonight?” Nazir asked after a moment’s pause, his tone slightly amused. 

Azarahd met his gaze. “If you’ll have me,” he replied quietly, still feeling quite foolish. 

“I don’t offer such things lightly.” 

“I… am very sorry,” Ahz said again, feeling pitiful. 

“I have already accepted your apology.” 

“I felt as though it might need repeating.” 

“You haven’t answered my question,” Nazir pointed out. Ahz’s eyes darted away, staring at his own boots, chewing nervously at his bottom lip. 

“Yes,” he said finally. “I’ll stay.” 

 

-

 

Azrahd watched as Nazir stripped down to his smalls, back muscles rippling beneath his scarred skin in the low candlelight of the room. He turned around to face the bed where Ahz lay stretched out, shirtless but still in his linen pants. Nazir was a work of art - a statuesque figure of lean muscle, sharp lines, and silken skin. His bare feet padded softly against the stone floor as he approached, the sound oddly erotic in its own right. He arched across the bed elegantly, planting a hand on the other side of Ahz’s shoulder and dipping his head to bring their lips together in a firm, powerful kiss. Azarahd sighed, hands rising to caress both sides of Nazir’s face and running the soft pads of his fingers across the Redguard’s short-cropped hair. He poured his apology into the kiss, pressing his hips up as Nazir straddled him. He wanted to be compliant without being submissive - apologetic without feeling pitiful.

 

He let his claws slide out ever so slightly, running them lightly across Nazir’s back, feeling them catch and dip across the myriad scars that dappled his skin. Nazir hummed against his mouth, deep and rich, before grabbing his shoulder and switching their positions, pulling Ahz on top of him. He slotted their thighs together, pressing closer, grinding harder. It felt like a dance. Where Nazir arched, Azarahd curved to match; when Ahz dipped lower, pressing his mouth to the fluttering pulse point just below Nazir’s jaw, the man undulated like a wave, fingers carding through Ahz’s fur and twisting the tips of his ears. One pushed, the other pulled, and somewhere along the way they both lost the remainder of their clothes. Ahz indulgently pumped Nazir’s thick cock, breathing deeply against his neck, drinking him in, explore the man’s body at a slow, easy pace. The Redguard was near silent, his heavy breathing and errant hums the only encouragement Ahz had to work with. His hands, though, seemed insatiable. They touched Ahz anywhere they could reach, squeezing and tracing, grabbing and releasing. 

 

Azarahd slowly worked his way down Nazir’s torso, kissing and licking at his scars, leaving slick trails across his dark skin. Before he could get his mouth on that glorious cock, however, Nazir gripped Ahz firmly by his upper arms and pulled him up, flipping their positions once again. He wrapped a firm hand around Azarahd’s dick, and Ahz arched into the sensation with a muffled gasp, tipping his head back, exposing his throat. Nazir accepted the unspoken invitation, dipping down and gently biting into his neck, pulling a long, breathy sigh out of Ahz. They communicated in silent gestures, lingering eye contact and slow, careful movements - the slide of a hand, the placement of a kiss. Azarahd’s knees soon fell open and Nazir’s spit-slick fingers found their way inside him, curling and coaxing a deep pleasure out of the depths of his body. He watched Azarahd with sharp, attentive intensity. Ahz felt like he was burning up beneath that gaze. He arched his back as Nazir curled his fingers again, a low, wanton moan finally sliding from between Azarahd’s lips. That lonely little sound seemed to break the spell of silence between them.

 

“Do you want me inside you?” Nazir asked, his voice impossibly deep. Gods, Azarahd did, but fear still managed to rocket through his body, coupled by exhilaration. 

He ran his claws across the back of Nazir’s neck, nodding. “Yes,” he managed to breathe. He inhaled deeply as Nazir leaned forward to grab the small bottle that sat next to the bed. His scent was intoxicating - a thick, heady mixture of spices and oils, of earth and sand and sun and everything that made Azarahd long to be in the desert again. He watched as Nazir spread the oil along the length of his cock, fucking into his own fist. Ahz groaned at the sight, letting his head fall back and shifting his legs open even wider, allowing himself another long moan as he felt Nazir’s oiled fingers slide their way back inside him, stretching him further. The potion from earlier had taken away any residual soreness from their previous activities, though a dull ache still pulsed across the back of his thighs, thrumming in time with his quickening pulse. 

 

Nazir leaned down to capture Azarahd’s mouth in another bruising kiss, and he groaned into it, scraping his claws across the tops of the man’s shoulders, earning a low growl in response. Nazir leaned back, removing his fingers, and immediately replaced them with the head of his cock. Azarahd was more relaxed than he had been earlier and he accepted Nazir’s length easily, like a gift, grabbing onto the sheets around him. Nazir exhaled heavily through his nose, eyes closed in concentration. Azarahd couldn’t keep his eyes off him; this singular, beautiful, dangerous person who had Ahz wrapped around his finger, who had pushed Ahz’s limits and torn him to pieces, who’d had the patience to pull him back together. Nazir rolled his hips and Azarahd’s eyes fluttered closed. 

 

Slowly, he lifted his arms up over his head, crossing his wrists, one over the other, opening his eyes halfway to look back up at Nazir. The man’s expression had turned dark, and Ahz could tell he was barely able to hold himself back. His clever eyes flitted to Azarahd’s wrists briefly, before meeting his gaze, questioning. Ahz nodded once, closing his eyes. He let out a long, wanton groan as he felt one of Nazir’s large hands curl around his crossed wrists, rolling his body upwards as Nazir used his free hand to hitch Azarahd’s knee up, resting it against the crook of his elbow, spreading him wider. He rocked into Ahz slowly, insistently, and Ahz felt like he was coming apart all over again. He flexed his hands, pressing against Nazir’s grip, feeling unyielding strength in return. He bucked back against Nazir’s hips, encouraging him, begging in his own way. Nazir complied, content to give him what he wanted now. He drove forward, quickening his pace.  

 

He released his grasp on Azarahd’s wrists, grabbing his other leg instead and pulling it up, pressing Ahz’s knees forward, folding him in half. Azarahd was making noise now, soft, punctuated moans with each thrust, while Nazir remained deadly silent, breathing loud and steady through his nose. Ahz saw a bead of sweat trickle down the man’s temple and he suddenly longed to be able to see what Nazir had looked like earlier - fucking him through his pants, hands wound into Ahz’s ropes, abdominal muscles flexing, shoulders and neck slick with sweat. As if peering into Azarahd’s fantasy, Nazir let out a long, low growl, leaning forward, slamming his hips against Ahz’s ass and sending shockwaves through his body. Ahz grasped at Nazir’s shoulders, simultaneously pulling him closer and pushing him away. He panted raggedly as their pace began to crescendo, throwing his head back and fully relinquishing control of his vocal chords. He shouted in time to Nazir’s thrusts, squeezing his eyes shut. Nazir came almost silently, his breathing coming out in long, strained exhales through his teeth as he pumped three long times into Azarahd before stilling.

 

Nazir only paused for a moment, their labored breaths hanging heavily in the air, before he swiftly pulled out and released Ahz’s legs from where they’d been trapped in the crook of his arms. He slid down the bed and, with no fanfare, took Azarahd’s dick into his mouth, swallowing him completely.

“ _ Fuck!  _ Ah!” Azarahd cried out in shock, curling forward and instinctively grabbing the sides of Nazir’s head. The man sucked relentlessly, and with single-minded focus. He held Azarahd down by his hips, taking his entire length before pulling off almost completely - over and over, unremitting.

“I’m…  _ fuck _ … Naz- _ ah _ !” He bucked wildly against the firm pressure on his hips, which only served to make Nazir press him down into the bed even harder, increasing his speed. Azarahd was pretty sure he didn’t Shout this time, but he still came hard, white light flashing behind his eyes. He gasped raggedly, watching in a bit of disbelief as Nazir swallowed all of it greedily, pulling off Ahz’s dick and licking his lips, expression feral. 

“That…” Azarahd began, words failing him for the most part.

“No, I don’t do that often,” Nazir supplied with a smirk. 

“Could have… fooled me,” Ahz panted. He laughed breathlessly, letting his head fall back against the bed to stare blissfully at the ceiling. Nazir crawled up his body, bending down and kissing him, immediately sliding his tongue into Ahz’s mouth, giving him a taste of his own seed. He shuddered at the bitterness, but groaned at the dominance of the action, bringing his hands up to lightly caress the sides of Nazir’s neck.

 

“Thank you,” Azarahd murmured against Nazir’s lips. He felt the Redguard smile. 

“Don’t go telling anyone, now. They’ll think I’ve gone soft.” Ahz couldn’t help the barking laugh that escaped, turning his head to the side and shaking a bit as he tried to laugh more quietly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Nazir suggested with a smirk.

 

-

 

Azarahd ended up dozing lightly against Nazir’s chest as the man read a book in the low candle light of the room. He had no idea what time it was, or if it was even appropriate for him to be sleeping yet. Time had moved differently since he first entered the Sanctuary at the beginning of that day. His mind floated back to the surface of consciousness and he stretched languidly, accidentally brushing his fingers across one of Nazir’s nipples. 

“Mmm, careful,” Nazir warned, though he didn’t tear his eyes away from his book. Azarahd smirked, brushing a thumb across the hardened nub, pulling on the golden ring carefully.

“They’re very lovely,” he commented against Nazir’s neck. The man chuckled deep in his chest, dog-earring the page of his book and setting it down.

“I certainly enjoy them,” he said, and Ahz could hear the smile in his voice. He felt Nazir’s large, warm hand caress the back of his head, stroking down his neck. Petting him. He laughed, lips brushing the man’s stubble, sliding his thigh across Nazir’s, running a thumb down the underside of his neck.

“Somehow people always end up petting me,” he sighed.

“Well, you are fairly soft,” Nazir offered, his tone vaguely sarcastic. Azarahd was laughing quietly and couldn’t stop, his sides shaking in silent spasms. And then suddenly the weight of the entire day came crashing down around him and one laughing hiccup turned into a sob and then another. Nazir must have sensed it immediately, quickly wrapping his arms around Azarahd, the book sliding from his lap and onto the floor with a muffled thud.

 

“You’re fine,” Nazir assured, which made Ahz shudder harder, choking off another sob.

“Wh… wh-a…” he stuttered, curling his fists into balls against Nazir’s chest. “...’s wrong with…?”

“Nothing,” Nazir interrupted, predicting the end to his question. “This is part of it.” He was rubbing distracted circles across Azarahd’s back. Ahz nodded against his sternum, eyes squeezed shut, still shuddering with dry sobs. He felt wrung out, emotionally drained. He didn’t want to have to think anymore - he didn’t want to confront any of this. Not Alduin, not Ulfric; not his shame, his failures, his cowardice.  _ None of it.  _ He felt so small, helpless, his mind ripping him back into his childhood and the flood of unpleasant memories that came with it, faces swimming into view of his mind’s eye, people he’d wanted to forget, places he’d run from and never wanted to return.

 

“Azarahd.” Nazir’s voice snapped him back to reality immediately, and an odd sense of calm washed over him from head to toe. He took a long, even breath, flattening his palms against Nazir’s chest and pushing back. He opened his eyes to meet that dark, intelligent gaze. Nazir was looking at him,not with pity or concern, but as though he knew that he would be fine. That this would pass. And it had, hadn’t it? Azarahd’s body tingled numbly, buzzing with the sudden rush of emotion - floating from the release of it. He took another steadying breath.  

“I’m alright,” Ahz said, knowing that Nazir wasn’t the one who needed to be convinced. 

The man simply nodded. “Of course you are.”

 

Azarahd let his head bump back against Nazir’s sternum and allowed himself to be pulled closer. His eyes fell closed and he breathed in Nazir’s distinctive scent once again, letting it calm him. He fell asleep at some point, waking a few hours later to Nazir’s chest rising and falling steadily, still pressed close. He raised a hand that felt twice its weight and quickly extinguished the candles in the room with a flourish before tucking himself back against Nazir’s side with a heaving sigh.

 

He lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady inhale and exhale of Nazir’s breath, every now and then catching the echo of footsteps somewhere off in a distant part of the Sanctuary. He wanted to try it all again. In fact, he was determined to. He felt as though he’d barely scratched the surface of what his body and mind were capable of handling - and there was nothing Azarahd loved more than a challenge. But he had business to take care of before he could pursue more pleasure. Before he felt himself drifting off, he resolutely decided that he’d set off for High Hrothgar on the morrow, finally try and meet this great and powerful Paarthurnax that Greybeards think so highly of. His mouth curled into a small smile against Nazir’s shoulder.   

 

It was high time he take care of this damnable dragon issue.                                           

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ta'agra translation:  
>  _vadaj_ \- a shortened version of _vadajiitthe word for "master"_
> 
>  
> 
> _This was actually a pretty challenging piece to write! I really enjoyed it and it was super interesting to see how Azarahd handled everything I threw at him. He definitely caught me off guard a few times. But that's the fun of writing! Sometimes your characters take over and drive the story in a completely different direction._
> 
>  
> 
> _Comments are always appreciated! ~ <3_


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